Sleepless in Sacramento
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: He had gone for over two weeks without any sleep. He couldn't, not when Red John could have returned her any time, a dead body or the shell of a human... For petit J and inspired by her art. Happy bithday! See cover for pic and check deviant art for petit J and the piece called Nevermnd...


A/N happy (belated) birthday to petite J. Hope this fic will make honour to your amazing pic!

* * *

The last few months had been hell for Patrick Jane. He had thought he had been already through the worst part of his life, but after Red John's promise to change the game, he finally knew he had been wrong. The killer had promised to kill again, as often as never before, but at first, he hadn't acted on his words. It had been even worst for Jane. He knew that Red John was going to hit again, but he didn't know when, how, where... or who the next victim could be. The thought, the fear hunted every instant of his day, and there was no way to know. Was it going to be someone he knew? Was it going to be random? He didn't know, and not knowing destroyed him.

And Lisbon was there to see him falling to pieces, turning himself in the shadow of who he could be. He was again the same man who walked past through her door that many years before. It had been terrible to see even back then, even if at the time she didn't know him and he was just another survivor, and right now it was even worst. Now Jane felt he was betraying, failing all those people, all those victims. He was obsessed again, and he spent all his time all alone in his attic, wondering how Red John could knew so much about his own investigation. He was forgetting everything, and it wasn't healthy. He wasn't looking after himself, and he didn't know how much good he could do for the rest of the world. How much good he had already done. Once again he was keeping her at arm's length, doing themselves no good. He was being his stubborn ass again. He didn't think that they could do so much more together, that they could be so much stronger. All he kept saying- with words and hunted looks- was that he had to protect the people he cared about. That he had to protect _her_. Every time he even just hinted to the question, she did her best to shrug it off like it was nothing, just something trivial or stupid. She kept repeating him very day, every time she had the occasion, that she was a cop. It was her job, she had chosen it and she wasn't going to allow a serial killer to play games with her. Was she going to be more careful now that Red John had step up the ante? Yes. Was she going to put her life on pause for him? Never. Jane had done enough for all of them, and, as tactless as it was, she told him so, one day when she was having enough of his crap.

That day, she had been as mad as rarely before with Jane. She was having dinner with an old friend with the academy - Matt Gleason - who had moved to LA to work in forensic, and was in Sacramento for a symposium. Matt had been her rock when she had first left home, and even if nothing romantic had ever happened between them (she saw him like one of her brothers, and he wasn't exactly interested in women) she had always cared deeply for him. Despite living in the same State, they had gone for years without seeing each other face to face, and now that she had been given the chance of this reunion, for once Lisbon had chosen to go through the whole "not disturb" route. For once in her life, she had decided that she didn't need to be looked for, to look after her people. They could do on their own for one evening, and besides, with all the stress Jane had put hr through lately with the fear of having Red John escalating, she deserved a night on her own.

Well, too bad Jane didn't agree.

The consultant had been paranoid enough when he hadn't found her at the office, but when she didnt answer at her mobile nor at home, he went frantic. He had to ask Van Pelt if she knew where Lisbon could be, and when the redhead had told him the name of the restaurant and that she was having dinner with an old friend, he saw red. He stormed the place like a maniac, eyes red and huge, and he behaved like he was her master. As he kept talking and talking, referring to her to a stubborn little child who didn't understand the meaning of the word "danger", Lisbon barely resisted the urge of slapping him. He would have deserved it, he was calling her friend a Red John's minions, saying that she was childish and unable to do her work without him. All because he acted like a jealous brat whose toy had been taken away from him.

"You know what, Jane? You want to stop living to make Red John happy, fine, see if I care. But I'm not going to put my life on hold just because you do. He has already enough power. I'm not going to give him this too."

Then, she had left the table, telling Matt she was done for the evening since her mood was ruined, and not adding anything to Jane. Her consultant had been left there, all alone, staring at his own feet, feeling like she had cut him open. He hadn't followed her, there was no reason when she was so mad, so he had waited for her the next day at the office, but Lisbon hadn't showed up. At first, he didn't worry. He just guessed she was so fed up with him she wanted to avoid him like the plague for a matter of days, but then, the whole day went on, and there was no trace of her. Yes, it could have been simple avoidance, and yes, she could have been with her friend, but she would have told someone. And no one at the office knew where she could be. It wasn't good. Not at all.

It was already night when he drove to her apartment, just to find her car parked in the usual spot. It was a relief, small and that didn't last too long, as it took only second to Jane to realize that her door was ajar, and no one was inside. Lisbon had been taken, and if there was any doubt about the identity of her abductor, the pin with the smiley face left on the hood of her car erased them. Fear took the best out of him, and Jane felt himself fall back into the familiar abyss, the one he had met over a decade before when he had lost his precious family. Now here he was again, but this time he was all alone facing hell. There was no Lisbon to try to give him a reason to live, no Sophie Miller to explain that he didn't kill his family, and no one should be punished for having spoken his mind.

For the next ten days, the team did their best to keep him together and help him out, but it was very hard. Jane was being as paranoid as never before. He didn't even trust himself any longer: when one day Barlowe arrived to offer his help, when the psych asked Jane if he had ever wondered if Red John wasn't just a part of himself, another personality, he started to think that yes, maybe it was right. Maybe he was Red John and he just didn't know it. Maybe the solution was right before his eyes, maybe it had always been there. He decided that, if that was the case, he would have taken his own life. He had lost Angela and Charlotte, and now Teresa too, without having had her for real. He couldn't live knowing that he had done it, destroyed something so utterly beautiful and perfect. He didn't even sleep any longer, for he feared that Red John would do something while he rested.

After over two weeks, he was all alone in his attic, crying as desperately as a lost child, with a dagger in his own hands. He had decided to take his own life, for whatever he was Red John or not, there was no way he could get Lisbon back. She had been in the hands of the killer for too long. There was no way she could be safe. He had no doubt she would have returned to them, he just wondered how. A rotten corpse? A ghost, alive and yet dead inside, just like Kristina Frey? Either way, there was no reason left for him to live. He had been offered a second chance at life on a silver plate, and he had left it slip through his fingers. Or maybe he had ruined it himself, and he didn't realize it. He didn't know what was right or wrong any longer, true or false. He was messed up, tired, still in shock. He had gone almost completely without sleep for almost... for way too long, and this time he didn't dare to ask the help of any kind of drug. What if Sean was right? What if he was really Red John? No. That wasn't life. There was nothing left worth living for. His mind was made up: he was going to kill himself, take his own life. Either way, Red John was going to stop. A victory in defeat.

The cold metal was already touching his left wrist, ready to cut open the tender flesh, when the metallic door snapped open, and Cho run inside, breathless. Jane turned, and he saw the shock on the Korean agent as he realized what the consultant was up to.

"Jane... it's Lisbon." He said, and as soon as he heard the words, a first smear of blood left the tanned skin. That was it. They had found her. She was gone. For real. There was nothing left for him there.

He went to slice furthermore his flesh, ready to end his life, but Cho wasn't born yesterday. He had been a Ranger in the military, a member of Special Forces and a damn good one. Sniper and interrogator were just two of the many things he was, and as quick as a feline, he jumped Jane, taking hold of the knife and stopping the consultant from injuring himself furthermore. But it was so hard! As tired and sleepless as he was, Jane still had an unexpected strength. It seemed like he had lost any will to live, but he was decided to die. They struggled for a while, but at the end, when Rigsby and Van Pelt joined them, Grace crying, hiding her face behind her hands, Wayne fighting alongside his friend to disarm the consultant, they did it.

He retreated in a corner, yet again crying, sobbing, asking for mercy, asking to be let alone to die, but with tears in her eyes, Grace kneeled in front of him, and shook him out of his stupor with just few precious words.

"Lisbon did it, Jane. She killed him."

Yet again he cried, and weightless, they almost carried him to the hospital when they had asked Lisbon to be brought. He didn't ask anything, he didn't care. There was still time. After all, he wasn't planning to leave. Why? She was there. He was going to follow her, though, was she to move in the future. He didn't have to just look at life, be on pause. He was going to get her, eventually, one way or another. Red John was dead, and he and Lisbon were still alive. It was time. Finally.

He went to her room, and promised himself that he would have waited for her to wake up, but peace and sleep claimed him, and when Teresa woke up, it was with a smile on her lips, for Jane was there, looking like a cherub, asleep on her bed, head resting on her shoulder, as in peace as never before since they had met.

Finally. They were free. To sleep, to dream... maybe to live a little dream of their own.


End file.
